


The Red Wolf

by fayrose



Series: Sansa/Margaery Drabbles [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 14:10:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/825189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fayrose/pseuds/fayrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of a collection of Sansa/Margaery drabbles written on request.</p>
<p>Sansa/Margaery - direwolves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Red Wolf

When Arya returned from a year of fighting the wights in the Gift, she had a trio of pups trotting after her. They made Margaery wary. Very wary.

“They won’t tear your throat out. Not unless I ask them to,” Arya spat, as if she thought Margaery stupid.

But Margaery had seen Nymeria eviscerate men in battle – make their insides spill out with a swipe of her paw. No words of Arya’s would make her forget that. Holding little Lyanna in her arms kept her out of the pups’ reach for now, but they would soon grow big enough that nothing she could do would keep her little girl safe from them.

“They will not hurt her,” Sansa promised, lifting up a little brown direwolf so that it could sniff the babe. “She’s a Stark. They will protect her. Love her. Just as Lady loved me. Just as Summer loved Bran. As Ghost loved Jon. As Shaggy Wolf loved Rickon. As Nymeria loves Arya.”

_She’s a Snow, my daughter, not a Stark,_  Margaery wanted to say, but everyone knew that Sansa would have made Jon a Stark if he hadn’t died. And somewhere along the way Margaery had earned the name of Stark.  _Four dead husbands,_   _I must be cursed_ , Margaery thought. And then there were the rumours that Jon hadn’t been Eddard’s at all.

“Are these Ghost’s pups?” Margaery asked, looking down at the fox-red pup and the mottled yellow and white pup that sat waiting at their feet.

“Yes,” Arya replied in the same tone as before. “There are no more direwolves south of the wall. Only those belonging to House Stark.”

With that she left, leaving the pups behind.

“See,” Sansa soothed, smiling as the pup in her arms licked Lyanna’s face. “Jon has had the Gods send them for the three of us – you, Lyanna and I. When the White Walkers come, Lyanna will still be a babe – a child at best. Her greatest chance at surviving will be her wolf. Her Rose will protect her ‘till the end.”

Margaery had to smile then, despite her misgivings. “As pretty as it is, Rose is hardly a good name for a direwolf. A kitten, maybe.”

Sansa smiled and leant in to kiss her brother’s bride. With only Arya there to see them, they had no need to hide. Even in court the closeness of their relationship was well known, even if the nature of it wasn’t. “Someone once told me that some roses have steel thorns. All the better to protect my little Lyanna and remind everyone that her mother is a Tyrell who gave up her seat to aid the north.”

“ _Your_  Lyanna, is she?”

Sansa let the pup wriggle free to the floor and took Lyanna into her arms in its place. She loved Margaery’s daughter more than she could ever have imagined. She was the glittering diamond in her snowy kingdom. Her hope for the future. She was everything.

“My heir,” she named the babe with a smile, kissing the Lyanna’s forehead. “I have had Maester Samwell see to that. Yours and my heir both. Arya never wanted it and Bran is…”

Margaery bent to pick up her choice of a pup and kissed its little wet nose. She supposed they were quite cute. For the moment. “She shall be my Red Wolf. Will she protect me as well as you did when you stormed King’s Landing to secure my freedom?”

“You are a Stark now. She would bloody armies to keep you safe.” Sansa’s idea of romance was turning into that of a northman – beautiful and brutal – but she delivered it with a kiss that was as sweet as any southron song. “And so would I.”

Leaving the pup on the floor, Margaery wrapped her arms around Sansa’s waist, Lyanna between them.

“And I would burn this world to the ground to keep you safe,” Margaery whispered fiercely against her queen’s lips. Before her eyes Sansa Stark had turned from a scared little girl trapped in the lion’s claws to the Queen in the North – a woman before whom armies trembled and laid down their arms. A woman who cradled her Lyanna so tenderly. For this woman and for her Lyanna, she would give the earth.


End file.
